“Your green coat. Nothing else.”
Marie shivered, and it wasn’t because she was naked under the coat. She was 17, sitting at a bar, and the cage fighter had just sat down beside her. Her heart lurched with the memory.
She’d seen him in the cage. Seen those muscles working beneath his skin, and all she’d been able to think about was wrapping her legs around his naked waist as he took her against the side of the cage. Those muscles would ripple under his skin as she ran her hands over the bare flesh. Those arms would support her effortlessly as she writhed and bucked and arched her back against the steel mesh …
Her body grew warm at the images the memory provoked. She quietly made her way through the mansion, the coat hugged tightly around herself to ensure that no one would catch a glimpse of what she wasn’t wearing underneath.
Her heart thumped in anticipation, but there were no other signs of nervousness. Her body tingled with the excitement of what was to come, any thoughts of hesitation long gone. This is what she wanted, what she needed. She wanted him to stop denying her. To stop thinking that she wasn’t willing in all this.
Before she rounded the corner, she pulled up her hood. He was waiting, lounging against the door to the cell. Face shuttered, but eyes hot as they tracked her progress towards him. As she drew close, he straightened, his arms dropping to his sides. She almost smiled at the familiar leather jacket he wore, but another rush of memory kept her face neutral.
It hadn't been the tip jar she'd been looking at when the barman told her to stick to water. She'd been looking at the bar top, imagining what the Wolverine could do to her if he had her on top of it. Would he simply drop his jeans and pull her ass to the edge, or would he spread her out and cover her? She’d looked up to find him studying her through lowered brows, and for a moment, she was sure he could see into her dirty mind. But then her eyes had taken in the leather jacket he now wore, and she had a new detail to add to her fantasy. The feel of the worn leather being run over her skin, the cool varnish a contrast under her back as he —
Logan’s nostrils flared at the sudden spike in her scent, hazel eyes noticing that she was looking at his jacket. “What’re ya thinkin’, darlin’?”
She looked up at him from beneath the hood. “You’d be shocked if you knew.”
He turned and swiped them in. “Doubt that. Sounds more like I’d enjoy it.”
John stood as they entered; clenching his jaw at the pain it caused his leg. This time, he was determined not to just sit there and take it. He knew Logan wanted to fuck with him, but he knew how Marie operated as well. His eyes widened at the sight of Marie in the green coat, his blue eyes flicking between her and Logan.
He knew what that coat meant. It was what she’d worn on the road. What she’d worn when she’d first met Logan. What she’d worn back when she was barely 17. Disgust contorted his handsome features, his lips curling into a sneer as he looked at them. Every bit the lecherous old man, and the young maid.
“You always wanted to do this, didn’t you? Even back then you were thinking up ways to fuck an innocent young girl. Must just eat you up that I got there first, huh? She’s no longer the delicate little virgin.”
Logan’s eyes dropped to the ground, guilt threatening to swallow him whole. A part of him – the honest part – knew that some of what Pyro was saying was true.
“You talk about what the two of you were doing, but you never knew what we did. Had to get real creative, what with Roguey having her powers, and all. She made entirely different noises when I had her.”
Logan’s head snapped up, hazel eyes flashing as he growled.
Pyro ignored him, his attention now on Marie. “Look at you. He’s made you into a whore, his dirty little plaything. How could you let him pervert you this way?”
She crossed the floor, closing the gap between her and John before Logan had a chance to stop her. She pushed the hood back, revealing her white streaks.
Her chocolate eyes held his gaze, an eyebrow quirked as her hand trailed down his bandaged chest. “So, he’s a pervert, and I’m a whore, but...” her hand travelled lower, pressing against his already hardening cock through his pants. “This is telling me you’re a voyeur. You always did like to watch me, didn’t you, Johnny? I still remember how hard you used to get when I’d touch myself.”
She turned her head for a long, assessing look at Logan. When she looked back, her eyebrow was still raised as her tongue darted out to lick the corner of her mouth. “What if you watched us right now? Would that get you hard?” She kept rubbing him, memory and skill and sheer instinct combining to coax him into places he had never wanted to go. “I never did tell you how we really met, did I, Johnny? You talk of me being the delicate little virgin, and sure, no one had touched me, but … you don’t know what I was thinking, that first time I saw him. In the cage.”
Pyro’s eyes widened, and she nodded.
“That’s right, baby. You should have seen him. Rippling muscles and as wild as they come. My momma would have blushed something fierce if she’d known the thoughts I’d entertained the moment I set eyes on the Wolverine.”
“What were ya thinkin’, darlin’?”
She turned at the sound of Logan’s husky tones, her fingers still rubbing John’s cock. “Did you know? When you came to sit next to me at the bar, did you smell it? The want?”
He nodded slowly, and had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Tell me what you were thinkin’, and we’ll do it.”
Marie turned back to John as her hand paused in its attentions to his cock. She saw the disappointment he was unable to mask before his features hardened into Pyro’s insouciance. She stepped back and walked to Logan, her fingers working the buttons on the green coat.
Logan’s eyes watched every movement, his cock stirring at the hint of naked skin. “Tell me.”
Marie looked up at him, her hand running over his jacket. “When you came to sit near me at the bar, I was thinking about you taking me on top of the counter. But I couldn’t decide whether it would be hard and fast, or slow and sensual. Maybe if I was lucky, both.” She had meant to tease, but her own body had taken over and she could barely drag her lips into a smile. They wanted to moan, instead, as she turned around to press her body flush against his.
She rubbed against Logan through the felt and the denim, biting her lip as his arm encircled her waist, his fingers slipping between her slick folds. He watched Pyro, a growl escaping his lips as he felt how wet Marie was. Her head fell back on his chest, and he nuzzled the top of her head, breathing in her scent.
“I wanted you to keep looking at me, wanted to be enough for you — someone you could desire.” She bit her lip, undulating for the pleasure of it, but desperate not to give in before she had forced him to face the truth. “But then you went through that windshield, and it was something else. The concern … it shocked me. It ran so much deeper than I could have expected. Deeper than the lust, even.”
He said nothing, but his hand was shaking as his fingers began working her clit, and she moaned. John’s eyes dropped to watch the hand between her legs as Marie started to dictate the rhythm while guiding Logan’s fingers.
“I wanted to take away the pain. In your eyes I saw the ghosts that haunted you, and all I wanted to do was make it better. But at the bar…” She trailed off as a moan escaped her lips, her hand urging Logan’s fingers deeper. Her brown eyes became hooded, her gaze no longer looking at John as she lost herself in memory. “At the bar all I could think about was having you inside me. Knowing what it would feel like to have that leather against my skin. Have my hands touching you.” Her voice cracked at the pain she’d felt then. “I wanted you so bad.”
Logan spun her around as he gripped her wrist. “On the ground now.”
Her lips parted at the edge to his voice, her eyes darkening. He released her wrist as she lowered herself to the floor. Marie stretched out, the green coat protecting her from the cool concrete. She took her arms out from inside the coat as she watched Logan loosen his belt and open the fly of his jeans. Warmth spread over her body, pooling at the juncture between her thighs as he loomed over her, cock jutting huge and purple in her field of vision. “So bad, Logan,” she murmured, mesmerised. “I want you so bad.”
She was still repeating the plea when he lowered himself over her, settling between her open legs. His hands were on either side of her head, holding his weight off of her. He shifted to balance on one hand, the other slipping inside his jacket sleeve as he ran the leather over her naked body.
She shivered at the touch, her eyes closing as she remembered scratched tables and green baize and a jar half-full of coins just inches away. The smell of stale beer and smoke filled her nostrils as the green felt beneath her body became varnished wood, and the man above her still wore the bruises from his bout in the cage.
“Wolverine.”
The name had come out in a quiet whisper. Logan stopped running the leather over her skin, his hand going back by her head. He positioned himself at her entrance, growling low and deep. Her hands gripped his jacket as he slowly, inch by inch, pushed himself inside her. He stayed there for a long moment, the feel of Marie hot and wet around him, all too welcoming.
When she started to clench around him, he withdrew in a slow motion. His eyes closed, his focus poured into keeping his movements steady as he pushed back inside her.
She had wanted him inside her, had wanted the cage fighter moving above her. She had expected it to be hard and fast to start with, perhaps expecting the brutality to be carried from the cage to the bar. To her. Her hands moved, palms flat against the leather as she ran them over his sides to settle on his back.
His breath grazed her skin, and she arched up into his closeness. The want that had been building since she had first seen him coiled tight in the pit of her stomach, and all she sought now was release. She hooked her legs behind his back, tilting her hips to take him deeper as he once again sheathed himself within her.
His arms strained with control, his ability to keep such a slow pace being tested as she began to buck and moan and beg. So tight. Virgin tight. But she was so far gone her heels were drumming in the small of his back demanding an end to it, demanding he go faster, harder. And the smell of want was so thick around him. He was drowning in her scent, and that alone threatened to undo him.
John realised he no longer existed for the couple on the floor. He had softened, at first; no longer able to convince himself that she was doing this to get back at him, to hurt him. But the heat of their coupling, the rawness of their emotion, had a force of its own, scorching away the disgust and disdain and even the envy until he found himself panting, his own hand straying towards his groin. Only his pride remained, and even that was close to surrender as he shifted to keep himself upright. He adjusted his line of sight to focus on their bodies, on the mechanics of slow, hot, sex, rather than the nakedness of their faces.
Logan couldn’t take it for much longer. One, two, could he make it three? Slow, slow, slow … the rush came and he couldn’t stop. Didn’t care. Wouldn’t stop as the world flew away and there was just a bar, and a girl, and the smell of want and promises he never thought he’d make.
“Wolverine,” came the gasp as she clenched around him. She trembled with the orgasm, clutching at the leather as she climaxed with a scream. “Logan!”
John braced himself as their frenzy stilled, and they nestled together in the folds of her cloak. He could see Marie’s face, her eyes still closed, but it was the smile on her lips that hurt most. He had never seen that smile, as if everything she had ever wanted had just landed in her lap. He wondered if it had.
It was easier to look at the Wolverine. He was rubbing his crazy hair over her face, blowing into her ear and sipping from her mouth as if plain oxygen wasn’t enough for him. But it wasn’t that which shocked him. It was the smile, and the purring. It wasn’t ownership, or possession, or sheer brutality. John shuddered to see it, but couldn’t drag his eyes away.
Long seconds later, Marie raised herself on one elbow to sink playful teeth into her lover’s leather-clad bicep. Her giggle broke off as her eyes flew past Logan to fix on John, narrowing as they noted his flushed face and glazed eyes. They drifted down, taking in the sight of his erection straining against his pants. She looked back up and saw the discomfort on his face, saw his desperation. He started in surprise when she rose onto shaky legs to close the gap between them, her hands running over her naked body and drawing his attention to the erect nipples, and the dampness still covering her thighs.
Logan came up behind her, the tip of his rapidly reawakening cock rubbing against her back as she placed her hands on Pyro’s shoulders. One of Logan’s hands cupped her breast, his thumb flicking over the taut nipple. She moaned, tightening her grip on John’s shoulders. Pyro’s blue eyes dropped to watch Logan tease the bud between forefinger and thumb. His eyes rose to meet hers again, and her lips parted in a gasp at the lust they contained.
Logan used his free hand to sweep her hair from her neck, his gaze burning as it inspected the marks he had made earlier. She rubbed herself against him more forcefully, asserting her own demands in the face of his possessiveness. He obeyed the wordless order to stop his teasing, his hand releasing her nipple and sliding down her body to settle on her hip.
He looked at Pyro, growling to get his attention. “Back on the floor, Matchstick.”
Pyro’s brow lowered, a sneer starting to form. It disappeared when Logan growled again, the non-verbal threat all too evident. He slid down the wall, Marie still holding onto his shoulders. His new position meant that her breasts were in his face, tempting him. He looked up to find her smiling, brown eyes hooded.
Logan gripped her hips, the tip of his cock brushing against her sex, making her shiver in response. He buried himself within her on the first thrust. She clenched around him as he pulled out, a loud moan coming from her when he slammed back in.
This time there was no taking it slow; he continued to slam into her, his grip on her hips tight enough to bruise the creamy skin. He glared at Pyro, a growl escaping his lips at the way the fire starter was looking at Marie.
Brown eyes locked with blue, and Marie’s tongue came out to wet her lips. Her moans grew louder as Logan pushed her closer to the edge, but it was the look on John’s face that was burning her alive. His eyes were filled with such hunger. Dilated pupils turning them nearly black. She gasped as she tried to take a breath, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
“I know what you want to do, Johnny.” A strangled moan escaped her as Logan’s hand snaked around her waist, his fingers starting to massage her clit. “It’s okay. Just do it, baby.”
He kept looking at her, but she heard the sound of his fly lowering; saw the way his eyes nearly rolled back in his skull as his hand wrapped around his hard length. She looked down, watching as he lubricated with the sticky pre-come. His strokes were hard and fast, and she looked back up to find him still looking at her.
“So what does this make me now?” he asked.
“Human,” Logan replied in a dry rasp, his control stretched to the limit by the scene in front of him.
Marie cried out, everything becoming too much for her as Logan slammed into her. His fingers rubbed frantically at her clit as she pulsed and shuddered around him. And as he roared with his own climax, she was already trembling with the onset of another orgasm.
Pyro watched her mouth widen, watched her lose herself and he couldn’t hold back. He came with a grunt, spilling over his hand. The relief flooded him, and his eyes drifted shut.
*
Her scent covered his clothing. His skin. He couldn’t get away from it.
He didn’t want to.
He looked around his room, and he could think of nothing better than having everything in it smell like her. Especially the bed. He wanted the sheets and pillows to be drenched in her. He wanted to wake up and the first thing he wanted to smell was her.
Logan ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
No. Not just have her scent greet him, but also have her head resting on his chest. His arm draped over her. Their legs entwined. Their bare skin touching.
He closed his eyes, his face in his hands.
God, her scent was so strong. It triggered a flood of images - her reaching for him as she lay on the green coat, begging for him as he stroked with agonising slowness. Demanding he fuck her hard as she bent over Allerdyce, her tits thrusting into the kid’s face. Guilt was added to the longing.
If he wanted her so badly, how could he keep taking her in the cell? How could he keep fucking her in front of Allerdyce?
And tonight… tonight she’d started to embrace it, started to imagine new ways to torture the kid. Or him. Or both. He didn’t want to think that he was responsible for corrupting her.
He frowned as he stood and started pacing.
But surely her admission after the kiss in the locker room … she liked that side of him. And she’d willingly entered the cell, right? Hank’s words echoed in Logan’s mind, adding to his confusion.
He wasn’t forcing her. He could never make her do something she didn’t want to do…
He grimaced as he thought about when he’d kissed her in her room, his rough fingering in the corridor outside the cell. He’d been reacting to his urges, to her scent, to her desire. But not her behaviour. Not what she’d been willing to own up to.
He growled, wondering if a shower would help him to forget the mess he’d created. But that would get rid of her scent. And he didn’t want that.
He started removing his clothing, determined to at least try and get some sleep.
And as he closed his eyes, there was only one thing he was certain of.
He wanted Marie.
*
Disbelief. Utter disbelief. Marie could do nothing but stare as the scenario played out around them. She looked at Pete, and saw her expression mirrored on his face.
“Tell me this ain’t happening again, Petey.”
He continued staring, and shrugged. “This is beyond bad.”
She nodded, anger replacing the shock as her brow lowered. She seriously could not believe that Kitty and Bobby could be that single-minded and fuck up the plan. Again. Just like yesterday.
She looked left and right, checking for any signs of the enemy. She nudged Pete, nodded to a warehouse to their right. “You think we can make it?”
He narrowed his eyes, surveying the space between their current position and the warehouse. “It looks possible…”
She looked at him. “But?”
He made a face, apparently not happy with what he was thinking. “You died.”
Marie couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, I died. Think it was actually my third death yesterday.” The smile increased when she saw Pete’s expression lighten. “But they don’t have the target, remember? We do, so I say fuck ‘em. All we do is let them know what we’re doing, and if they can’t follow an order, then too damn bad.”
He grinned. “Logan won’t be happy.”
Marie’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You leave him to me. I’ll take full blame.” She flicked a tiny switch on her headset. “Shadowcat, Iceman: we’re heading for the warehouse to try and cut through to the Blackbird. Cover us.”
Marie didn’t wait for a reply, breaking cover with Pete as he armoured up. It was more precaution than anything, but he made sure to stay behind her. He wasn’t going to let her get hit again. Not when she carried the target in her backpack.
A whirring noise sounded from behind them, and Colossus moved to grab Marie. He pulled her to the left, the flying disc narrowly missing her head. It circled back around, and both of them ducked. Colossus’ metal body covered Marie, and he grunted as the spinning blade hit him. Sparks flew, but as soon as the whirring seemed to move away from them, they started running again.
It took less than 90 seconds for the disc to work its way back towards them, and Marie pushed her body to try and beat it to the warehouse. The air temperature suddenly dropped around them, and Marie heard Pete cry out, and turned to see him become encased in solid ice. Stunned by the sight, she momentarily forgot their mechanical attacker, and ducked just in time to avoid it. Bobby and Kitty afforded her no cover whatsoever, sheltering a safe distance away, Bobby’s arm still raised towards the icebound Colossus.
Marie ignored the spinning metal disc, charging for Bobby. “What the hell did you do, you fucking idiot?” She tackled him to the ground, not giving him a chance to say or do anything before she landed a punch to his jaw. “What the fuck made you attack your own fucking team-mate?”
She continued trying to cause injury to him, oblivious to the fact that the simulation had disappeared, the Danger Room returning to its normal blue state. Kitty tried to get Marie to stop, but backed off at the glare she received. Angel and Jubilee ran over to Pete, trying to work out how to defrost the big guy.
Logan stormed into the Danger Room, his hazel eyes flicking from the frozen tin man, to Marie trying to strangle Drake. He hooked an arm around her waist, easily pulling her off the Iceman. She was still kicking and clawing with her hands, expletives and curses coming out, some of them aimed at Logan as he set her down, hands on her shoulders to stop her from attacking Drake again.
He turned to look at the Iceman who was still lying on the ground, Pryde already cradling his head in her lap, fussing over him.
Logan glared at him, a low threatening growl coming out. “You better work on your fucking aim before the next session, Drake or I’ll do a lot worse to you than Marie here.” He spared a glance at Jubilee and Warren. “One of you should go get McCoy. He’ll hopefully have an idea of how to get Rasputin defrosted safely.”
Duty done, he returned his focus to Marie, holding her in place with one hand, the other stroking her hair as he tried not to smile at her riled up state. “Marie, leave the ice prick alone. He’s not worth it, sweetheart.”
She rubbed her cheek against his hand, making a noise of assent. She stepped in closer to him, gripping his jacket as she looked up at him. It was then that they both noticed the silence surrounding them.
Logan turned to scowl, his voice coming out in a bark. “Didn’t I give you two orders?” He looked down at Drake and Kitty. “And what the fuck are you still lying around for? You have work to do.”
Logan looked back at Marie, his scowl softening slightly. She held his gaze for a long moment before stepping out of his arms. He turned to watch her go, running a hand through his hair.
*
As Marie stepped into the shower, she wondered how it was that she had found herself in another triangle. Even when she had been with John and Bobby, she had never really stopped wanting Logan. She had just resigned herself to accepting the fact that he would never see her as anything other than a kid sister, or a friend.
John… John had seen her as so much more. Just like now, back then she had known exactly what she was doing when she’d started that relationship with John. The only difference was that she had known without a doubt what it was that she had wanted. She had wanted John.
Her relationship with Bobby, such as it was, hadn’t gone anywhere, and didn’t seem to be going anywhere. The truth was she had felt no remorse in her cheating, she had never even felt guilty about it. She knew that made her a bad person, knew that some people would think she was weak and dishonest. But she had been in love.
And now? When she looked at John, she still saw the boy she had loved, and would have done anything for.
But she also saw Pyro — the young man who hated her for taking the cure, who left her for the Brotherhood, who had stood by Magneto at Alcatraz.
He had left her broken-hearted at Alkali Lake and she had never been able to deal with the loss. She had allowed herself to express a certain amount of pain and grieving under the guise of mourning Jean Grey, and dealing with a ‘friend’ leaving.
In that time she had relied on Bobby, perhaps too much. He had been the only other person in the mansion to feel the loss of John, and she had found herself back in the role of girlfriend. She had been trying to mend a broken heart by making it up to the boy she had slighted.
She had no right to feel rejected by him, now that he had found happiness in Kitty’s bed. But she hadn’t been able to help it. She had been trying so hard to make it work, determined to have at least one relationship succeed.
Only he had never been what she wanted. He wasn’t John. He wasn’t Logan.
Maybe her inability to deal with John leaving was why it was coming out as anger now. Anger, and the need for revenge. She wanted to make him suffer like she had suffered all these months. And every time she entered the cell that would be her intention. And every time she was in the cell, her intentions changed.
She would remember everything they had once shared and a part of her was desperate to get it back.
But then Logan would make his presence known, and she would be focused on him.
Logan.
She had wanted him for so long, but she didn’t know if it was love. She hadn’t been able to believe it, that night in her room when he’d backed her up against the wall. At last, he’d made a move. She thought he’d finally seen her as an adult. Finally worked out she was worth more than just simple affection.
But then… then the cell happened. She had spent a lot of time wondering why he had gone about things the way he had, and she thought she had worked it out. He didn’t seem able to believe that she could willingly accept him wanting to fuck her. Couldn’t accept her wanting to fuck him.
She wanted to, all right. So she kept going back to the cell. But surely, last night, the green coat and the fantasy they both seemed to share… surely that had to prove to him that she was more than willing? That she wanted all of him?
Didn’t she?
Marie shook her head, determined. She did. It was more than lust. She just kept playing along with his dirty games because she knew he needed pushing. She was scared that if she stopped, then so would he. He’d stop wanting her, taking her.
It was also true that she liked it. She liked being able to have the two men she cared about most under her power. Slavering for her. She couldn’t deny that.
But she knew, in the end, she had to choose.
And perhaps the choice wasn’t as hard as she thought. It was a choice she had made years ago.
With John, there would always be a ‘but’.
“I love you, but…”
You’re human.
You’re a traitor.
You’re one of them.
You’re just not good enough.
With Logan, if she could just get him to move past the guilt and self-hate, she knew there would be no exception to his love, no condition. He would love all of her, just as she loved all of him.
Marie took a deep breath, slamming her locker shut. She had made her choice, and now she just had to make Logan understand.
*
She found him in the study, cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth as he stared out the window. She knew by the way his head turned slightly that he was aware of her presence, so she didn’t bother announcing herself. She walked over to him, standing in front of his chair so that his attention was on her, not on the window.
For a brief second, she chewed her lip; unable to decided how to start. His hazel eyes met her gaze, and she suddenly found the words.
“I’m not a little girl anymore.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Jaq for the beta, and also to Jenn.